Spoons
by Marzi
Summary: or; In Which Dominic Cannot Find His Boss


**_Spoons_**

_or,_ **In Which Dominic Cannot Find His Boss**

She had a headache.

She had a _fucking _headache.

The white noise of curses that flowed through her mind as she signed another paper made her wince with how appallingly _American _the deluge seemed. Her headache throbbed as if to remind her she had other things to wince about. Like the pressure behind her eyes, the slight light sensitivity...

Oh, and her _bloody fucking _headache. (That was slightly better.)

Collecting the papers and putting them neatly back into the folder from whence they came, Adelle stood up from her desk and moved towards the door. She would nip down to Saunders' office, grab a Tylenol, and no one would have to know. Because if Adelle Dewitt was one thing, she was The Boss Who Never Got Headaches. (God damn it- she had other things to worry about)

Judith looked up when she walked by, but the girl was clever enough not to say anything when Dewitt went by without a word. Though the silence could also have been attributed to the scowl on her face. Just possibly.

Mr Dominic would have been a great deal more difficult to shake off. The man was her shadow, and though that was a fine thing for her head of security to be, there were some places she didn't need him. Like the washroom. Adelle recalled his first day at her side with a smirk- the eyebrow she had lifted until he finally caught on as to where she was going and was still blushing by the time she came back out.

Once in the elevator Adelle suppressed another wince as her headache protested to the lighting. Right. She needed to focus on her mission.

Pain relief.

The elevator dinged open (her left eye gave a barely detectable twitch) and she stepped out onto the Dollhouse floor. From there it took a few seconds to walk into Saunders' office and locate what she needed.

Adelle plucked a bottle from the shelf alongside it's mates. _Sorry old boy,_ she thought in a moment of ridiculousness, _but, off with your head!_ She twisted the child safe top off.

It was the last coherent memory she would have for a while.

* * *

><p>"What do you mean, 'she stepped out'?"<p>

Judith looked about ready to sink into her chair under Dominic's scrutinizing stare. "She stepped out of the office twenty minutes ago... she didn't say anything."

Laurence sighed, perhaps he was overreacting. Still, disruption of a well placed schedule Wasn't Good. In fact, the situation deserved a secondary capital category title of Bad Things Are About To Happen, because one _couldn't _overreact to a change in routine at the Dollhouse. Oh no. The situation always got more grand and ridiculous and life-threatening that you could ever imagine. He was half tempted to radio Boyd and ask him if Echo was still in her Doll state.

Yet, if Dewitt had left her office of her own accord..

Was she trying to avoid their bi-weekly security overview? He frowned at the thought. There was nothing in her past behavior that would indicate she didn't enjoy them. Didn't she always smirk when he mentioned the latest broken body that had provided the information they needed? Wasn't there always a pleased twist to her lips when he mentioned all potential leaks were taken care of- the one that she reserved for when if was just the two of them? (During his time at the Dollhouse Dominic had come to recognize four separate curvatures to Adelle's lips that indicated she was pleased- two for when she was satisfied)

"Well sir," Judith picked up. "She didn't look.. happy."

Laurence's heart did a ridiculous school boy stutter. He told himself it was from Dewitt being supposedly displeased with something, not specifically with him. (Hopefully) He gave her a nod and turned on his heel towards the elevator (his stoic expression hadn't altered to give away any of his thoughts) and moved down to the Dollhouse floor.

Once he reached his destination he reset his course for Topher's office. Perhaps the programmer had done something to warrant Dewitt's wrath. The corner of Laurence's lip twitched hopefully towards a smile at the thought.

She wasn't there though. In fact, _Topher _wasn't there.

A Bad feeling settled on his shoulders. Capital B intended, transmitted by his instinct, understood and received by the rest of him.

Moving at a slightly swifter pace than normal, Laurence went to Saunders' office. She actually was at her post, errant scientists in tow- still, no Dewitt. The pair didn't notice his entrance, what with Topher's back to the door and Claire's determined glare towards him being too distracting.

"I can't believe you," she snapped. "You can't keep these in an area where just anyone can reach them."

"Hey, not anyone could!" He protested, holding up his hands in his universal 'I didn't do it as far as I can remember, so I probably did, whoops' gesture. "Will you just give them back to me?"

"Give what back?" Laurence interrupted, catching sight of a pill bottle Saunders was waving around in a 'you should be ashamed' manner.

Topher cringed, losing several inches in height as he attempted to fold in on himself as he turned around. "Er, hey Dom."

Claire looked oddly pleased, slapping down the bottle on her desk with a faint smile. "Topher had drugs in his office."

Laurence raised an eyebrow. Perhaps commentating on the shelves of drugs on the wall behind her. Just perhaps.

"But I wasn't using them," he immediately defended himself, because in Topher-land, that was a defense.

"You just had a bottle of Ecstasy laying around, because?" She retorted.

"Well, yeah. I mean I don't want to get high, but I could- and that's like.. the same thing..."

Dominic rolled his eyes, only Topher would equate the chemical want of something with the act of experiencing it. "I don't care about your drug problem, have either of you seen Dewitt?"

They stared back at him blankly.

In their silence he moved back towards the floor, determined to find his boss before the Bad feeling fermented in his gut. The radio at his belt crackled and his throat constricted. Alright. Maybe he was lying. He could go for a few more minutes of foolish hope of him blowing the whole situation out of proportion- to going back upstairs and finding Adelle waiting in her office..

He snagged the radio off his belt, "Dominic."

"Uh.. sir, there's a problem in the kitchen."

A beat of silence followed where Laurence hoped the situation would be clarified.

"Would you care to specify the problem?" He demanded, feet already moving towards his new target.

"Er..."

"I'll be there in two minutes."

* * *

><p>Spoons.<p>

She had never contemplated them so fully before.

Adelle stuck the piece of silverware in her mouth, salivating slightly at the metallic tang. She didn't have an iron deficiency, did she? Wait, what did iron have to do with it, weren't these made out of silver? Her Actives ate the best five star cuisine, with _silverware_- shouldn't that mean they were silver, or had the fellow with the list of expenses lied to her? She would sick Dominic on the matter latter..

_Spooon_, she thought in the now, trailing her tongue over the object.

It was past the lunch hour so the chefs had all snuck off. Probably to canoodle in the spice cupboard.

Adelle wished she could canoodle, but apparently she was The Boss That No One Would Touch With A Ten Foot Pole. She thought of Rodger and sighed, spoon falling out of her mouth. Rodger didn't even want her. Rodger wanted _Katherine._

She picked up the object absently, watching the coating of saliva she gave it slide away.

Hell, she would settle for just some spooning.

Adelle looked around, as if someone was about to jump from around a corner and offer themselves up for the act. She wanted to be the Big Spoon though, and most men didn't like that. Margaret hadn't minded. Of course, Margaret was a woman. Unless she put her brain scan in a male body..

Giggling, she stuck the spoon back in her mouth and pushed herself up off the floor. When she took a step forward she tripped over her discarded heels, catching herself by slamming her hands into the edge of the counter.

"Ow!" The spoon fell from her mouth once again, making a racket as it clattered against the counter. She wanted to tell the spoon to be quiet, lest her position be compromised, but then remembered that she didn't need to. She had barred the door after she had entered, intending to lock the headache out. Her head had stopped hurting so she figured her masterful scheme was working.

"_Scheeme,_" She said. It didn't have quite the same ring as _spooon._ Which was funny, because she actually hadn't said _spooon _out loud.

Someone knocked against the door to the kitchen, drawing her focus away from her thoughts. (if, at the time, they could be considered such a thing) Adelle ducked back behind the counter, worried that the headache had found her.

She heard the door open and remembered that the kitchen doors were on hinges so that they swung both ways.

"Blast," she muttered, knowing that her enemy was about to descend upon her. Realizing that she needed to stand her ground, she leapt back up- snatching the spoon from the counter to defend herself.

* * *

><p>"What else have you brought into the House?"<p>

"What?" Topher protested. "I w-"

"_Topher,_" Claire snapped. "Do you have any idea how dangerous this could be? You have recreational drugs put into bottles marked with different names! I want to know where you got this bottle, and if you have anything else hidden around here. I need to know so that I can make sure I don't put anyone's _life _in danger. can you understand that?"

"Sheesh.. okay.." He shuffled awkwardly.

"Where?" She hissed, reading his guilty look.

"I got some things, specialty stuff.. I don't even know what they would do- and I wasn't ever going to take 'em, but the thought of having them around.. it was.. a bit much."

After this was cleaned up Claire was going to have to talk to him about his pretend drug habits. Couldn't he just score crack in a video game and be happy? "Where did you hide them?"

He stared at the floor.

"In my office?" Saunders rarely yelled, and in that moment she was about to.

"Hey, I put them in a container that's really difficult to open, I figured you'd just put the bottle back and grab one that was easier."

"Which?" She marched over to her shelves.

"The Advil bottle.."

It took Claire a moment to realize that the bottle she was looking for wasn't on the shelf, but open and seated on her exam table.

* * *

><p>"What's going on Matthews?" Laurence complained.<p>

The young man shuffled awkwardly, "er, chefs have all cleared out for break sir, but.."

"But?" He snapped, much too interested in resuming his hunt for his boss.

"Well, uh.. I heard some singing."

He blinked. Singing?

"It sounded like.. God Save the Queen."

Drawing his gun, because Dominic wasn't in the mood for this childish shit (if Topher was somehow behind this, so help him God..) he moved towards the kitchen doors. He kicked one with his foot, but instead of opening it banged against something and swung back towards him.

He scowled. Then he yanked the door open.

"Who the fuck left this cart here?" Dominic shoved the offending object out of the way, which wheeled towards the island counters without much complaint. His eyes hadn't made it halfway across the kitchen when something smacked him in the forehead. The only thing that kept him from bringing his gun up and firing was that his eyes had just made contact with his boss.

Dewitt had a strange wide eyed look to her, and one hand was held up in the air- as if she had just thrown something. Dominic's eyes tracked down. A spoon. She had thrown a spoon at him. His eyes moved back up and he carefully moved his gun back into it's holster.

"Ms Dewitt?" He asked tentatively, irritation melting away into complete confusion.

Her arm, which was still hovering in the air, quickly dropped back to her side.

"Sir?" A voice spoke up behind him.

"Get out of here," Dominic snapped back at Matthews, making sure the young man was out of sight before he let the door close behind him. Dewitt hadn't moved, watching him warily.

"Ma'am?" He tried again. "Are you alright?"

Her posture immediately relaxed. Far beyond the leaning back into her chair that he was used to. Her shoulders practically drooped, and she rolled her head back.

"It's just you!"

She sounded.. strange, to Laurence's ears. He had heard all kinds of tones and inflections with his boss, this wasn't one he was familiar with. The Bad feeling he had morphed into What The Hell Is Going On? Which he immediately reassessed as Adelle pulled herself up onto the counter and began to crawl towards him. No. This was Just Plain Weird Shit.

"Ma'am?" He croaked when she reached the other end of the island.

Adelle huffed as if out of breath, having dragged herself towards him with just the power of her forearms. Instead of raising her head to look at him she dropped one arm from her side to point towards the floor.

"Would you mind retrieving that for me, Mr Dominic?"

He mechanically obeyed, bending down and picking up the spoon. Once the cutlery (did that term count for a spoon? he wondered) was in her hand Dewitt pushed herself up, then swung her legs around so that she was sitting off the edge of the counter.

"One must have a defense!" She informed him.

"Against what?" He asked, suddenly hopeful to getting some answers to what was going on.

"Against headaches."

Laurence blinked, "I didn't know you got headaches, ma'am."

Adelle rolled her eyes, "I don't Mr Dominic, just problems." She lifted the spoon up and eyed it suspiciously, as if it were a problem. Her tongue poked from the corner of her mouth before reaching out to lick the handle of the piece of silverware.

Laurence's mouth went dry. His eyes tracked her progress over her fingers to the top of the spoon where she did her best to wrap around it before pulling it into her mouth. He watched for a moment as her mouth moved in a manner that indicated her ministrations weren't done, when he suddenly remembered that it had been on the floor. Moving forward he put a hand on her arm and pulled down, hoping that her hold wouldn't loosen and the spoon would come free.

It did, but Dominic wasn't given time to revel in his victory because Dewitt leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him, pressing her face into his chest. She mumbled something indistinct.

"What?"

She pulled her head back and stared up at him. "I. Could. Spoon. You."

_Any fucking day of the week _he thought before he could stop himself. Just.. not when she didn't seem to be herself. "Uh, you could-"

"Wonderful. Lay on the floor."

"_What?_"

"Mr Dominic," her tone became warning, though the effect was diminished as she rubbed her cheek against his chest. "Lay. On the floor."

"You want to spoon me right now?"

"I believe I have indicated as much," she pulled back from his chest, arms dropping from around his waist.

His move. Obviously she wasn't in her right state of mind, and he would be taking advantage.. but she seemed to be demanding it of him, and well, maybe it was best just to keep her occupied until he could figure out what was going on. That was feasible. She would totally understand later. He wouldn't tell a soul what happened, and he was sure she would prefer anything to happen within the company of someone who would be able to keep their trap shut than if he let her wander around and make a fool of herself in front of her entire staff. Topher would probably video tape it..

Wait. Topher...

"I believe one has to _lie down _before spooning can occur,"Adelle interrupted his thoughts.

Used to following her orders (_not _pathetically determined to make the best of the situation) he finally laid down. He wasn't surprised when a warm body pressed against his back and arms wrapped around his waist.

That was okay, he was alright with being the little spoon.


End file.
